A Surplus of Time
by Sky Slayer
Summary: An anthology of the weeks that which Thor resided on Midgard alongside his teammates. (Pre-AOU; Set during the weeks The Avengers spent looking for Loki's sceptre)


**Title: Glitter to Sprinkles**

 **Summary: In which an afternoon of baking doesn't exactly go as planned, and Clint takes one for the team.**

* * *

Tony Stark was known for his recklessness. His loud, somewhat obnoxious personality. His brains, his snark, his inventions.

But above all else, Tony Stark was known for his bad ideas.

It started off innocently enough. The billionaire had been watching the cooking channel, oddly engrossed in the making of a giant cake of buttercup frosting and chocolate sauce.

It was one of their off days, so to speak; a lack of leads and ideas had resulted in all of them being cooped up in the tower, doing whatever it was they did when they weren't on missions. He could bet Natasha and Legolas-sorry, _Clint_ -were sparring, maybe with Steve. Banner might be watching. Thor was...well, most likely wandering around aimlessly.

"What in the name of Asgard is _that_?"

Tony glanced over his shoulder to find the blonde god in question staring at the TV screen in an odd mixture of wonderment and confusion. It was as he tried to explain what a cake was and the joy it brought with it, though, that his brilliant idea struck.

"Do you wanna make one?"

Thor's eyes widened but a fraction, before giving way to a more delighted expression, coupled with a quick nod. Hardly suppressing his child-like grin, Tony jumped off the sofa and headed towards the kitchen, Thor hot on his heels chattering about how lucky he was to have a friend as intelligent and innovative as Tony.

"Have you done this often?" He asked, watching the human pull out a variety of contraptions that surely only he knew how to use.

"Um, no," Tony plugged in the blender, eyeing the various switches and taking note of how none of them were labelled. "But I'm sure we can learn as we go along, yeah? How hard can it be?"

"How hard can what be?"

Both men turned to see Steve walk into the shirt, shirt still damp and a towel hanging around his shoulders.

"Tony has most generously offered to teach me about this magical creation you humans call cake," Thor explained helpfully. Steve's eyebrows shot upwards, and he turned back to face Tony.

"You can... _bake_?"

"I can manage," Tony shot back, voice laced with annoyance over what Steve was implying. "You wanna join us or not?"

Steve considered his options. A day off where the team could spend time together? It sounded better in theory, he would later realize, than it actually was.

"Why not?"

Thor cheered and wrapped an arm around his brother in arms' shoulder, going off about how magical the cake had looked on the TV. Steve could only smile as his friend rambled on and on about the 'fluffy, white cream' and 'soft pastry meant for the gods'.

Tony, upon hunting for another blender, stumbled upon an assortment of aprons, not even hesitating before tossing one to each man behind him. The colour pink didn't seem to bother either man, nor did the little hearts covering the cloth.

"You boys gonna stand there or help me?" He finally asked, gesturing from them to start pulling things out like he was. After a brief moment of indecisiveness, Thor and Steve began searching the kitchen as well, both drawing on prior knowledge to help them.

Soon, the three were busy pulling out various boxes and ingredients, only ripping a single bag of flour among the many, many breakable objects that they had considered using. Thor had very nearly gone into shock when the white powder had gotten into his eyes, it taking a good five minutes for the other two to calm the god down enough to rinse the incriminating flour out of the man's eyes.

All their commotion, however, had brought Natasha and Bruce into the kitchen, the latter sighing in exasperation at the sight of the grown men flailing above the sink, Thor's swinging arms nearly knocking off Tony's head.

"Baking a cake?" Nat couldn't stop the small smile from forming, the sight just a little bit more than endearing. Two, towering figures, both dangerous in their own right, draped in pink aprons covered in hearts. And Stark, in the same kind of apron, looking all sorts of exasperated with his companions.

"Well, trying is more like it," Steve admitted, picking up the spare aprons and holding them out to the duo. "Care to join us?"

Natasha took an apron without protest or reluctance, almost seeming eager to join in on the fun. Bruce, however, took the apron off of Steve's hands much, _much_ slower, almost seeming as if he wanted to run in the other direction.

"I'm not too sure this is a good idea," he spoke up, eyeing Tony as he dumped the flour into a large bowl. Clouds of white dust floated around the space, Thor nearly tripping over his feet to get away from them. "I mean...none of us have expertise in culinary arts."

"Lighten up, Banner!" Tony shot the man a look, holding up the bowl for inspection. "How hard can it be? Now, get crackin'! And by that, I mean someone has to crack the eggs."

Thor picked one up and smashed it against the side of the counter, the watery insides exploding everywhere.

"Not like _that_."

Steve shoved his friend aside, picking up an egg and tapping it against the side of the counter, too, with a soft, controlled, flick of his wrist.

The egg promptly shattered, much like Thor's. The rest of them glared at the man, who could only blink, expression sheepish.

"It must be the super strength?"

Natasha sighed audibly and picked up the eggs, cracking and dumping them properly into the bowl in succession. Tony would've applauded the redhead, but his hands were busy, a large spoon in one hand and the bowl held in the crook of the other arm. Only later would he remember the blenders he had found.

"Doesn't cake have...milk?" Bruce asked, eyes searching the room for a carton of milk to find none. "Did you three not pull any out?"

"All that's left is the crappy almond milk Pepper likes," Tony's nose wrinkled at the very thought of the 'fake' milk. Bruce opened the fridge and pulled the carton out, eyeing the dull packaging before unscrewing the cap and pouring its contents into the bowl, despite Tony's vehement protests.

"Well, I'm sure it'll taste better in a cake," the doctor reasoned.

And that's how the afternoon wore on; each member dumping in various ingredients that they thought were used in cake, Tony constantly stirring. At some point, he'd gotten the glove of one of his suits, the contents of the bowl becoming too much for him to stir with his hand. Thor had snickered until Tony had threatened not to share any of the cake.

About two hours of dumping later, the group had a bowl of lumpy, brown-ish cake batter, the contents fizzing. They peered over the rim, watching the contents of the bowl rise and fall.

"It's like it's breathing," Steve observed. "We must be doing this right."

"But now what?" Thor frowned, thinking back to the delight they'd seen on the television. Their creation looked nothing like that. "It's not like the cake Tony was witnessing being made."

"Relax," Tony stretched out the word, shooting the Norse God a look of apprehension. "We just need to heat it up, is all."

"Like this?"

Before any of them could yell no, the man hit the bowl with a small bolt of lightning. Much of the batter flew out of the smoking bowl, hitting them all in the face and splattering against the walls.

"Thor, no, that is not how you bake a goddamn cake!" Tony yelled, hitting their bowl with a towel to put out the sparks. " _Now_ look what you've done!"

Though most of the batter was gone, there was still enough, they decided, to put into the oven. So, Banner heated up the appliance, finding it easier to not question the group's antics than to do so. He was quick to dump whatever remained in the bowl into a pan, before throwing that into the oven.

"Now...while we wait, frosting!" Tony declared, slapping down a small, red container. It was, according to the label, a tin of frosting.

"I don't think we actually have to do anything to the frosting." Steve implored, quickly reading the contents of the label. "I think we just...put it on?"

"Nonsense, Capsicle!" Tony popped the lid off and dumped the white cream into their now empty bowl, the pure white a stark contrast to the charred ceramic. "We have to make it...nicer!"

"Sprinkles," Natasha threw in her opinion, and everyone hummed in agreement. Everyone expect Thor, of course, who simply glanced at his companions in confusion.

"Sp...rinkles?"

"The little, colourful flakes the lady on TV put on her cake," Tony explained, already hunting around for some. The others joined in, searching for even a small container of the needed ingredient. They searched long enough for the cake to finish baking, at which point they made sure to pull it out and put it on the counter.

"No sprinkles," Tony finally stood back up about an hour later, eyeing the others. Natasha had already popped the sides off of the pan, leaving the cake on a little stand. "Guess we're going to have to settle for just frosting."

With a shrug, the others all crowded around the island where the cake was sitting, each of them grabbing a spoon to work with. The bowl of icing was put in the middle, and they all began slathering the cream onto the sides and top of the cake, mindlessly chattering about small things as they did so. With the five of them working together, it didn't take very long for the dark-brown cake to be covered in the white cream, and they stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"It looks good," Steve couldn't help but smile at the others.

"Yeah, but no sprinkles..." Tony couldn't stop himself, to which the others could only begrudgingly agree.

It was then, though, that a little bottle caught Thor's eye, a little bottle contain...grains, of sorts, looking similar to the 'sprinkles' he had seen. He crossed the room and scooped the bottle off the shelf, turning back to the others with a triumphant grin on his face.

"Friends, I have found our desired sprinkles!"

And before anyone could protest, he strode back over, popped the lid off the bottle, and poured all the glitter in the bottle over the cake.

Various cries of protest arose, all of them watching in dismay as the little pieces of red, pink, and gold stuck to the cake, the entire surface soon glittering in the kitchen lights. Not to mention their bodies, and hair, were now covered in the incriminating colours as well.

"Thor, those are not sprinkles!" Tony glared at the man in question. "Glitter does _not_ equate to sprinkles!"

"Is it still edible?" Steve asked, almost in fear.

"Well...sparkles aren't toxic," Banner explained, voice thoughtful. "I mean, they are edible."

"See?" Thor spoke up, nervously. "All is well!"

"What's going on here?"

They all turned at the sound of their final member entering the room. Clint stood there, taking off his jacket and eyeing the mess incredulously.

"We made cake," Natasha explained, a carefree smile on her face. "Wanna be the first to try it?"

Clint wanted to be the first to tell them the cake looked downright evil, and that if he didn't know better that they were trying to kill him. But the hopeful looks on their faces made him stop and reconsider his words, and against his better judgement, he accepted.

A slice was soon cut, and Clint was horrified to find that the inside was the colour of tar, tinted with a dark shade of brown. But then he was being handed a fork, and they were all talking about how they should bake another cake some other day when they had sprinkles, and he found himself taking a bite of the cake because _damn_ _it_ he was a nice person.

"Wow," he managed to choke out. "It's really good!"

 _Death by cake. What a way to go._ He thought to himself darkly. _You're a true Avenger, Barton. Laura would be proud._

But the smiles on the faces of his friends made the pain worth it.

Somewhat.

* * *

A week later, they were busy taking out yet another HYDRA location, and Thor took a minute to bring up his concerns.

"Steve," the man in question turned towards him. "Where is Clint?"

The man frowned, remembering his friend calling in and sounding like he was dying, before promptly hanging up on him to go puke.

"I think he said he had the flu...all I know was he was puking and sounded like he was dying."

"Perhaps we should bake him another cake. To make him feel better."

Somewhere in the world, on a farm hidden from the world, Clint groaned out in agony.

* * *

 **A/N** : **This was a little something I couldn't help but write! Feel free to leave requests, if I see anything I like I'm sure I'll write it up and slap it on here!**


End file.
